Not many stories serve to disturb me but I’ve been proven wrong recently. It’s amazing how the feelings change from disbelief to anger to numbness until the shit sneaks up on you in your sleep. I am changing the person’s name because I just don’t have the heart to type out her name.
In the ghettos of Jersey City, NJ was a woman named Sade. She had a shitty life and married an Indian immigrant who was on the run from the law in his country of origin for homicide. He’s a drug addict and beats Sade regularly in front of the children amongst other things. Speaking of which, they have an estimated amount of six children together. Sade made no move to stop any of this and instead immersed herself in chain smoking, alcohol, some drugs and “falling in love” with a 13 year old boy. There came a point when she finally did take the children away from it all, but she ended up going back for empty promises.
The Recent Disturbing Bit:
Sade, still pursuing the 13 year old and getting drunk regularly, confides to an acquaintance that her husband has moved on to beating her oldest child. She expressed relief because it’s no longer her that’s under his sights. Her oldest child is 11-12 years old and has taken up smoking and alcohol to deal with the home issues. She is targeted because she speaks out against him when he does his usual shit. After he beats her, he gives her money out of guilt.